Tears, Idle Tears
by Cinaed Born Of Fire
Summary: An ancient demon has his eyes set on a certain Son Goten- and is using Trunks to get to him. Shounen ai, yaoi, rape, angst, demon possession, murder, suicide, lots of lovely evilness.
1. Prologue

Tears, Idle Tears 

Tears, Idle Tears 

By: Cinaed, Born of Fire 

Rated: R 

Pairings: You'll see… 

Warnings: Shonen ai, yaoi, angst, rape, suicide, demon possession, murder 

Prologue 

Running. He was running. Sprinting desperately through the desolate darkness that reached out with invisible fingers to tug at his clothing and slow him down. Shrugging the phantom hands away for brief second of liberation, he continued to bolt through the endless night, seeking sanctuary of any sort. 

Then... agony. Pain so sudden and intense that he doubled over like someone had punched him in the stomach. He couldn't breathe, couldn't see, couldn't feel anything but the agony that began in his chest to send fire through his veins and the insubstantial fingers that persistently dragged him backwards. 

No! He fought the pain, bucking like a frenzied bronco lashing out against a cowboy that had attempted to mount him. He would not be taken back there without a fight! Tossing his head like a wild beast, he thrashed against the hands that prepared to convey him back to their master. 

Eyes turned up to the back of his head as the pain intensified. Instead of his lungs he had bonfires, burning their way up his throat as he struggled to breathe, knees buckling underneath him. The agony gradually grew until he was simply fighting to take in air and keep living, scarcely noticing the invisible hands as their barely felt fingers wrapped around his trembling limbs. 

The phantasm hands seemed to sense this and hauled him roughly back. Back through the darkness, ignoring the defenseless form wheezing and whimpering and writhing in their grasp, only intent on returning their mortal burden back to their master. 

He was aware of being released, and collapsed onto the unseen floor, curling in a shaking ball and trying to catch his breath as the agony slowly but surely subsided to a dull faint ache. Sweat trickled down his face and stung his eyes as he simply lay there, breathing hard. 

Above him, someone spoke, speaking words foreign to him. Blinking rapidly, he ignored the speaker. A few seconds passed, then an ice cold hand made of flesh and blood this time gently came to rest on his damp brow. Instantly he went rigid, his breath hitching in his throat. The voice spoke once more, low and placid. This time he understood the words being vocalized. 

"I wish you hadn't made me do that, love. I don't want to hurt you." Coughing weakly, he replied, somewhat surprised at how hoarse his own assertion was. 

"Bullshit…" His captor laughed loudly, the hand idly caressing his sweaty flesh. 

"I've always loved your sense of humor, love. Always." 

"Don't… call me… that!" The hand halted briefly, thumb frozen on the area between both eyes. The silence was deathly still, broken only an involuntary tremble from his body as he awaited the pain that was more than likely to come and convulse his form. 

"I can call you whatever I like, love." This time the voice was quiet and insensitive, almost detached. "You are mine." Fierce possessiveness colored the tone now, and the hand resumed its activity, fingers stroking locks, which were covered with sweat, away from his face. 

"I am not!" he protested roughly, attempting to jerk his head away from the invading hand. Once again the momentary silence and pause, then two human hands grabbed him painfully by the shoulders and jerked him to a kneeling position. 

He struggled to wrench himself from the other's grasp, but all his worn-out body managed was a feeble struggle that ended with him gasping for breath and sagging into those powerful hands. His eyelids opening to slits against his will at the iciness radiating from the flesh that now pinned him in place, he turned his chin to his left, refusing to look at his captor. He could at least resist that much. 

"You are mine, love. All mine and no one else's. I've made sure of that." The words barely reached his numbed brain before chilled silky lips pressed to his flushed right cheek. Instinctively flinching, he jerked his cheek away from the other's mouth, shuddering as the freezing hands tightened on his shoulders in anger. "You will not defy me!" The voice was no longer distant; instead it was thunderous and incensed. 

"Yes… I will…" The words were gritted out from his clenched teeth as he opened his heavy eyelids wide enough to stare into the darkness. 

"No, you won't," seethed the voice, and then the human hands were dragging him forward to slump helplessly onto a muscled torso, cold radiating from the uncovered flesh. Unable to stop himself, he turned his head towards the other in bewilderment and panic at the intensity in those formidable hands. Devastatingly recognizable eyes met his, darkness and possessiveness coloring the other's irises. His arms instinctively rose, trembling with effort to push his captor away. The face, ethereally sallow and so unlike the normal color of the person he had known before that he scarcely recognized the other except for the eyes and the hair, was carved in marble, only a small smirk on those lips to betray the captor's true feelings. 

"Y-yes, I-" His words were cut off as the achingly familiar person leaned forward and captured his lips with his own. Gently those silken lips roamed his, and then pressed down harder, revealing the person's inner passion. His hands falling numbly to his sides, all he could do was freeze as the arms wrapped around him overpoweringly, bringing their bodies closer together. The lips finally drew back to let him catch his breath. For a moment he simply gasped, completely drained. Then, forcing oxygen back into his lungs, he weakly protested the invasion of the hands, which molested his frame even as he spoke. "S-stop it…" 

"Stop what?" The tone was innocent as a perfect eyebrow rose. "You've always enjoyed it before…" Once again, he recoiled. 

"T-that was before you k-killed everyone. Everyone!" His subjugator chuckled quietly, the chest sending him up and down slightly. 

"They weren't important. After all, they tried to take you away from me." He stared in shock and disbelief at the person he had once known, loved, and trusted. 

"You're not him…" His whisper was soft and low, filled with turmoil and sorrow. His captor's smirk vanished, replaced by a dark scowl. 

"What do you mean?" The voice was sharp enough to cut through glass. 

"You may have my lover's face, but you're not him." His voice steadily grew stronger as he continued. "You're not him! You can't be him! You'll never be him-" 

Pain halted him once more, and he collapsed completely against his captor's frame, tears of torture and misery trickling from the corners of his eyes as the agony racked his body again and again for what seemed to be infinity and beyond. When it finally ceased, he continued to weep in despair into the other's arctic flesh. 

"Poor, poor love," murmured the other, cradling him with deceptive compassion. "I wish you wouldn't make me do that." He didn't reply but continued to sob gut-wrenching groans of anguish, fallen hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. The other's hands rested briefly around his shoulder blades, then stealthily made their way down the shuddering frame. Finding their object of desire, fingers tugged and slid underneath ripped cloth to caress his muscled back. At once, the tears halted and he struggled against his captor. Too late. The hands stroked up and down the area where his spinal cord was located, making him quiver. 

"Stop it!" His voice was a rasping shout, but his caresser ignored him. His voice rose, and his weak arms flailed desperately at the other, who merely looked amused. "Stop it! Stop it!" 

"I'm not going to, dearest. You belong to me. Admit it, love. You've forever worshiped me. Ever since we were children." Tears fell unheeded onto his captor's bare shoulders. 

"Not you," he whimpered, voice fragile once more. "You're not him. You're not my lover, and you never will be." The other was still, thinking. When the voice spoke, it sounded almost amused. 

"Well, you may not love me, the voice that you're speaking to, but you love this body. Your body craves this flesh. Pure lust. With this frame, I can make your body respond even when you don't want to." The voice paused, then sounded thoughtful. "No, you'll never love me, but you'll love this body forever. And that's enough for me. This body will permanently be me, and never again him." 

"N-no…" Then his shirt was being ripped from his frame, the strands fleetingly protesting before shredding in the other's grasp. 

"Yes." The hands were all over him, groping and feeling his frame despite his attempts of getting away. Next came the lips, soft and pliable against the base of his throat. As the cold lips greedily bore down on the smooth flesh, they slowly gained warmth until the temperature of their silky kisses felt as if they were burning his very flesh. He groaned in a mixture of torment and desire as the hands descended to the ragged edges of his torn dusty jeans, lips dipping to travel along the lines of his muscles. Regardless of his struggles, he felt himself reacting to the sensual touch of his captor. 

"See? You like this…" Soft words murmured against where his rib cage ended, the other's fingers skillfully beginning to slide his pants from him. At that, his senses returned and he thrashed, catching the other by surprise. The hands fell away and he stumbled backwards, tripping from the half-off jeans around his knees. He fell down, sprawling helplessly on his back before his tormenter. 

"Not funny, love. Not funny at all." The voice was trembling with rage now, dark and filled with frenzied fury. Hands made of steel shoved him onto his stomach with enough force to knock the breath from him in a single gasp of surprise. The jeans that had floored him were torn from his legs. Now all he was wearing were his solitary boxers. 

Then his captor was straddling him, arousal evident in the bulge that pressed against his lower back. Panic seized him, and he floundered underneath the other, a terrified whimper escaping his lips as even his boxers were ripped from him. 

"Relax, love. This'll be fun, just like it always was." A ragged grunt answered the voice as everything became a bright unbearable crimson that slowly faded to a thankful painless gray. 

. . . 

"Now, didn't you enjoy that?" He remained where the other had left him, unmoving and mute. "I know you did, love…" At that, he managed to speak, words even more hoarse than before from screaming. 

"You're not him… You'll never be him…" 

"I told you, I'll always be him," disputed the voice, sounding affable. "Always." He coughed hard, struggling to sit up and face his oppressor. Perspiration dripped down his ashen face while he managed to get on his knees, swaying from even that brief movement. His eyes had long since shed all the tears they could, but they almost seemed to scream his resolve in what he was about to do. 

"No," he said, no longer gasping for breath and simply staring at him, trying to ignore the black dots swimming in his vision. "You aren't. You are not, and never will be, Trunks." The young man who was Trunks and yet not him leisurely sneered, looking very entertained. 

"Really, Goten? Is that what you think?" Trunks Briefs replied. 

And then Son Goten fainted. 

To be continued… 

Document created with wvWare/wvWare version 0.6.7 -->


	2. Chapter One

(This is a corrected first chapter, thanks to Euterpe. *bows* Say, any clue on Goten's height? *looks hopeful* And thanks again for the correction! *blinks, then suddenly bursts into delighted laughter* Trunks is SHORT! JUST LIKE ME! HAI! (BTW, I'm only 4'11", and will always stay that way. heh.) Here you go, everyone, enjoy!)  
  
Tears, Idle Tears  
  
Chapter One  
  
1.1.1.1.1.1 Two weeks earlier-  
  
"Goten?" The Son looked up to grin his famous grin at his college roommate, his entire face lighting up as he did so.  
  
"Yes, Trunks?" Trunks smiled briefly back, looking somewhat tired, as he always did after a night of nonstop partying.  
  
"Are you busy?" he asked, bright blue eyes glancing for a moment at the slender hardback in his roommate's hand. Goten shrugged, throwing the book aside without any further thought.  
  
"Nope." The smile on Trunks's face widened slightly as the book hit the wall with a quiet thump, leaving yet another black mark on the whitewashed wall. He immediately collapsed onto the bed next to Goten, thigh against thigh and rested his cheek on the other's shoulder.  
  
"Tired?" Goten asked softly, smiling lightly as Trunks sleepily nodded, eyes already fluttering close. Strands of lavender softly brushed against the Son's cheek as Trunks forced his eyes open briefly to look up and smile faintly at his best friend.  
  
"Good night, Goten." The soft words murmured despite the fact that it was two in the morning, the lavender-haired young man's eyes completely shut, and he was fast asleep. Smiling tenderly to himself, Goten wrapped a gentle and supporting arm around the sleeping college boy to keep him from falling.  
  
"Aw, picture perfect," a quiet voice teased from the doorway. Goten looked up, startled, then grinned goofily at the two figures standing in the doorway.  
  
"Hey Nira. Hi Marron." His discourse was soft so not to wake the one he held slumped against him. The two girls, having just gotten back from the party Trunks had been at, smiled back, and Nira spoke up once more.  
  
"Be careful, Goten. If anyone other than us walked in on you two right now, they'd think you two were queers," she joked, not noticing the brief grimaces that flickered on both Marron and Goten's faces at her words.  
  
"R-right. Let's go now, Nira." With an apologetic smile Goten's way, Marron roughly dragged her ignorant friend out of the room, closing the door behind them. Hearing the door automatically lock, Goten let loose a quiet sigh.  
  
Nira's teasing hadn't meant to be cruel, he knew. Unfortunately, the girl didn't know that what she had said was actually true. Trunks and Goten were boyfriends, and had been for quite some time now. How long had it been? Since Goten had turned sixteen, so that would be four years in a couple weeks.  
  
A smile forming on his lips at the thought and all distraught over Nira evaporating, Goten slowly lowered the sleeping Trunks onto his bed, lying beside him as the blue-eyed young man briefly frowned at the movement. Instinctively, Trunks's arms wrapped around Goten's waist, and the two nestled together on the bed, their body heat warming each other. Content to lie there, Goten closed his eyes and recalled the first time they had lain like this together, as innocent children. And when they had shared their first kiss.  
  
-Flashback-  
  
"Aren't you two enjoying your first sleepover?" Bulma questioned, noticing her five-year-old son's frown. Blue eyes identical to hers rose to gaze at her, and then Trunks replied.  
  
"Where's Goten gonna sleep? I've only got one bed." Bulma smiled.  
  
"Oh, you two can sleep in the same bed." Vegeta, sitting on the couch and trying to watch television, choked on the soda he had been drinking.  
  
"W-WHAT?" he finally gasped out, after managing to catch his breath. Bulma eyed her red-faced lover, looking mystified at his reaction.  
  
"He and Goten can sleep in the same bed," she repeated cautiously, which caused another round of choking as Trunks and Goten watched with interest.  
  
"Woman!" he roared at last while the two boys watched a vein that was pulsating in his temple. "Only mates sleep in the same bed!" Bulma laughed, rolling her eyes.  
  
"Come on, Veggie-chan, you're on Earth now, remember? Boys can sleep in the same bed as other boys until they're around ten or so." As Vegeta grumbled something under his breath about idiotic human and their *bleep* customs, Goten piped up.  
  
"Why ain't they allowed to once they're ten?"  
  
"Aren't. They aren't allowed to," Bulma corrected instantly. Goten blinked blankly.  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because then they get too old for childish things like that, Goten." The Son boy considered this in all his four-year-old intelligence. After a few minutes of thought, he finally grinned the trademark Son smile, his blank eyes proving that there was no one at home.  
  
"Okie dokie!" Trunks smirked a little at his friend's attitude, then grabbed him by the arm and dragged him off in the direction of his room.  
  
As they exited the family room, Goten heard Vegeta mutter, "I don't like Kakarrot's spawn sleeping in the same bed as my brat, woman. No good will come of this." Goten didn't catch Bulma's low reply as Trunks continued to haul him away.  
  
"Your room is big!" Goten declared in awe as he peered around the enormous bedroom. Trunks smirked.  
  
"I guess it is." Suddenly, Goten yawned, blushing as Trunks laughed at him.  
  
"Sleepy?"  
  
"Yeah," the younger boy admitted, followed by another yawn. "It's my bedtime." Catching sight of his bag, which contained his pajamas and other necessities, he immediately brightened.  
  
"I'm gonna go brush my teeth and then I'm gonna change into my awesome pajamas!" he declared, bouncing over to the tattered bag.  
  
"Whatever." Ignoring his friend's mutter, Goten bounded towards the door they had just entered through. "Goten, my bathroom's right there." Blinking, the Son turned to find Trunks pointing at a door to his right.  
  
"You have your own bathroom?" When Trunks nodded, Goten stared in wonder for a long moment, then burst into another goofy grin and dashed into the bathroom as the other boy sighed. Returning a few minutes later, teeth cleaned and re-clothed in faded blue pajamas with little orange lines on them, Goten jumped onto the bed with a joyful squeal.  
  
"My bed isn't bouncy!" Laughing, Goten bounced up and down as Trunks, now clad in pajamas of lightest blue with lavender lines, the outfit almost exactly like the Son's, shook his head and climbed into bed after him.  
  
"Stop bouncing, Goten. You can do that in the morning," he commanded after a moment of continued bouncing. Pouting, Goten obeyed. Lying down beside the lavender-haired boy, he was silent for a long moment as the other closed his eyes.  
  
"Trunks?" Trunks cracked an eye open, fighting back a yawn.  
  
"What?" Goten grinned albeit bashfully.  
  
"My mom always kisses me before I go to sleep." Trunks stared at his friend.  
  
"Well, I'm not kissing you. Only moms do that."  
  
"Then get your mom to. Please?"  
  
"No. She's talking to my dad. I get in big trouble if I disturb 'em talking." Goten sulked for a moment, then persisted with another plea. At last, Trunks rolled his eyes.  
  
"Fine, if you'll shut up," he grumbled as Goten grinned contentedly. A quick warm kiss found its way onto Goten's cheek, and then the two fell asleep, side-by-side.  
  
During the night, the two managed to get entwined, and were found that way by Trunks's parents when they checked in on them. Goten was wakened slightly as Bulma covered them both with a blanket. Through the darkness, he could tell she was smiling. In the doorway, Vegeta scowled. Warmed by both the blanket and Trunks's soft body pressed against him, Goten quickly fell back to sleep, lulled by the rhythmic breathing of his bedmate.  
  
-End of Flashback-  
  
With a quiet sigh, Goten buried his face in Trunks's mane, taking in the deep scent of lavender. He was wearing the shampoo Goten had given him. The gesture made the Son smile in ecstasy. Even if Trunks could have used any shampoo in the world, he had chosen to wear the kind Goten had bought him, which was fairly cheap compared most, even if Goten had used most of his paycheck as a bookstore assistant to buy it. Snuggling against his lover's frame, he let his heavy eyes close. Staying up for his boyfriend had many advantages, but it also had disadvantages.  
  
With that final thought, Goten had joined Trunks in the land of dreams.  
  
-Trunks's Dream-  
  
He was alone. All alone in a barren wasteland filled with endless stretches of sand and dirt. Looking around in confusion, Trunks shifted his feet slightly, for the sun-warmed sands burned the soles of his bare feet. The sun glared down at him, making him squint as he peered around for any sort of life. Nothing. Nothing but the sand that stretched to forever.  
  
Then. A figure! Trunks raised his hand to attract the black shape at the farthest end of his sight range. The person noticed him, and began to walk in his direction. Grinning with relief, he hoped that the newcomer would know exactly where they were.  
  
"Hello!" he called out as the person drew closer.  
  
"Hello!" The word was almost an echo, sounding familiar. Trunks's eyes narrowed as he stared at the individual who continued to come nearer. Then recognition dawned, and he grinned broadly.  
  
"Goten!" he called, dashing towards his lover. "Goten!" The person quickened pace, and raced towards him too. As the two drew closer to each other, Trunks knew he was right. No one else could match that hairstyle. With a smile of relief, he took one last stride and hugged Goten fiercely. The half Saiya-jinn leaned into the embrace, smiling faintly.  
  
"Do you know where we are?" Trunks sighed in disappointment as Goten slowly shook his head. "So you don't know how to get home?" Again just a shake of his head answered his question. "Perfect." Still holding his lover close, Trunks peered around the desolate badlands once more. Nothing had changed.  
  
Goten sighed suddenly, and buried his face in Trunks's neck. The lavender- haired man smiled at the action, closing his eyes as Goten gently kissed his collarbone.  
  
"Goten, we really should try to find a way to get home," he began, and then exhaled quietly as Goten ignored him, planting butterfly kisses up his throat until they were eye to eye. To his surprise, the Son looked distressed, dark eyes filled with tears.  
  
"What's wrong?" Trunks questioned, instinctively holding his boyfriend closer. Goten looked down, not meeting his gaze as his entire body trembled.  
  
"They're going to take you away from me." The whisper was mournful and uneven. Trunks frowned. No one could take his Goten away from him. Ever.  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Everyone, Trunks. Everyone."  
  
-End of Trunks's Dream-  
  
Trunks woke up, blinking in the darkness. Someone was holding him protectively. He tensed for a moment before realizing whom his embracer was.  
  
A bead of sweat trickling down his forehead, he mumbled softly, "Trunks, don't have pizza and beer before going to sleep next time. It causes really depressing dreams." With that note to himself, his eyes closed once more, and he fell into a dreamless sleep, entwined with his boyfriend.  
  
. . .  
  
Goten opened his eyes as Trunks pulled himself from his grasp.  
  
"Time for class, sleepyhead," came the teasing words. Goten smiled drowsily, a lock of onyx falling in front of his eyes as he slowly sat up, stretching his slim frame leisurely.  
  
"Wha's th' time?" he mumbled sleepily, blinking hard. Needless to say, Goten wasn't a morning person. Trunks smirked slightly, all thought of the odd dream gone.  
  
"Nine o'clock." Goten halted in mid-stretch, eyes widening in horror.  
  
"I'm late!" Yelping in fear of what his professor would do to him, he leapt upright and quickly threw on the nearest available clothing before grabbing his shoulder bag and bolting out the door as Trunks laughed.  
  
"He really needs to get a watch," Marron commented, poking her head into the room as Trunks nodded, opening the shades and revealing that the sun was just coming up. A few minutes the sound of pounding feet reached the two friends' ears, and a rumpled-looking Goten materialized at the door, appearing much offended.  
  
"That wasn't very nice, Trunks-kun." Marron and Trunks both grinned in reply.  
  
"Like I said, buy a watch." Goten ignored her as she collapsed onto Trunks's unused bed, raising an eyebrow at them. "Have a good night sleep?" Trunks chuckled.  
  
"Not in the way you're thinking, Marron." The half-android pouted.  
  
"But that's boring," she complained, lying stretched out on his bed. "First you get sound-proof walls, and now you say you two never do anything!" Goten rolled his eyes, dropping his schoolbag onto the ground.  
  
"Hentai." Marron didn't even try to protest, only grinned wickedly. In a mere second, Trunks wore an identical smile.  
  
"We don't do anything, Marron?" While Marron looked blank and nodded, Goten merely grinned broadly. He knew what was coming. "Let me prove you wrong." With that, Trunks jumped his lover, planting a hungry kiss on Goten's lips as Marron reddened.  
  
"Never mind. I said, never mind." As Trunks and Goten ignored her, continuing their display, Marron shook her head and left, shutting the door behind her with a quiet laugh.  
  
Trunks and Goten pulled apart to smile, one roguishly and the other goofily.  
  
"So, what time is it really?"  
  
"About six o'clock." Goten groaned and buried his face in Trunks's collarbone. As he experienced déjà vu, the blue-eyed college boy twitched slightly. Goten didn't notice and stayed still, smiling against the other's smooth skin.  
  
"No one's going to take you away from me." Trunks hadn't realized he had spoken aloud until Goten looked up, an expression of confusion on his face.  
  
"Of course not, T-chan." Trunks smiled in relief. The dream had been just a dream after all.  
  
Oh no it wasn't, something seemed to whisper in his mind, but the words were so faint that Trunks thought he had imagined them and ignored the forewarning.  
  
. . .  
  
-That night-  
  
"Are you partying tonight?" Trunks looked up to find Goten steadily watching him. Trunks shrugged without comment, and his companion sighed.  
  
"I don't like you partying ever night, Trunks. You have circles under your eyes." Bulma's son brushed the comment aside.  
  
"So do you." Goten heaved a sigh once more, rubbing his own itching eyes.  
  
"That's only because I stay up waiting for you."  
  
"Look," Trunks said at last, "I'll come home early, all right?" His lover brightened, flashing him the famous Son grin.  
  
"Thanks, love!" Goten exclaimed, hugging Trunks. Quickly clasping the Son to him, Trunks pressed his lips to the other's forehead and was gone. As soon as Trunks had left, however, the smile on Goten's face faded.  
  
"I didn't want you to go party at all," he whispered, his eyelids drooping. With a disappointed smile on his face, he curled up in a ball and closed his eyes, falling fast asleep, disturbed only by a nightmare of endless sands and emptiness, where a figure as dark as the night pursued him and called his name. Upon his awakening with a strangled fearful cry, he promptly fell back to an untroubled sleep as he always did, forgetting the persistent nightmare that had terrified him for the last few weeks.  
  
. . .  
  
Trunks came back three hours later to find the lights were still on and Goten sleeping like a baby. A tender smile crossing his lips as he stared down at his lover, he moved to turn off the lights. His entire world plunged into darkness and he stood there for a long moment, remembering Goten's worried comments.  
  
He didn't want Goten concerned about him. Determination flexing his jaw, he decided that partying was off for the rest of the semester. Or at least until he could convince his boyfriend to tag along.  
  
Knowing he'd make Goten grin tomorrow morning with the news, he settled onto his own bed and slowly fell sound asleep.  
  
-Trunks's Dream-  
  
Once more Trunks was holding Goten, and Goten was watching him mournfully.  
  
"What's wrong?" he asked again, grasping his lover nearer. Goten blinked back the tears, and his lower lip trembled.  
  
"They're still going to take you away from me. And now he is. Make him leave me alone, Trunks. He's scaring me. He can get to us in our dreams. Please Trunks, please make him stop giving me nightmares."  
  
"Who?" Trunks questioned once more, growing angry this time. Who would dare scare his beloved? Goten closed his eyes and didn't answer him. "Goten?" A tear trickled from the corner of his left eye, and he turned his face away. "Goten, answer me! Who?"  
  
"He'll hurt you, love. He'll hurt you. He's powerful enough to make me forget my dreams. I can't tell you now, and I can't tell you later. I'm sorry! He's too powerful. I'm sorry!" Goten was babbling now in his anxiety, and suddenly wrenched himself from Trunks's grasp. Grimly, Trunks reached out and held him still. This time it wasn't pizza and beer making his dreams odd.  
  
"What are you talking about, Goten?" he asked his lover's dream form. Goten shook his head frenetically.  
  
"He'll hurt you! I've said too much already! He'll." He halted, all color draining from his face as he stared over Trunks's shoulder. Instinctively he whirled, releasing Goten and glaring at the one who had just shown itself.  
  
The humanoid monster stood, much taller than Trunks's relatively short height of five-two, at six feet tall, with enormous bat wings that fell to the sands. A cruel smirk played on its lips as its demonic eyes glowed a sinister crimson. Unearthly long fingers flexed as he raised a hand to gesture vaguely towards Goten.  
  
"Let me explain everything to him, love." The demon waved a hand towards Trunks's boyfriend, who whimpered in fear and cringed away from the hand. Trunks scowled.  
  
"Love? He's my boyfriend," Trunks growled, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. The monster laughed quietly.  
  
"Yes, he is. But soon he'll be mine." Trunks snorted in disbelief.  
  
"Like he would go with you." The demon was silent, and then its frame rippled like a pebble hitting a calm lake's edge. The colors of the rainbow flashed and swirled through the phantom's body, slowly becoming a person Trunks knew all too well. Himself.  
  
"Really, Trunks? Is that what you think?"  
  
"Who the hell are you?" Trunks shouted as Dream Goten trembled behind him.  
  
"My name is Taelis. I am an incubi, better known as one of the incubus, a type of powerful devil." Taelis slowly smiled. "And Goten is mine."  
  
-End of Trunks's Dream-  
  
Trunks woke up with a smothered shout, bolting upright in bed. For a second all he saw was the ugly smirk worn on a face identical to his and all he heard was his own ragged breathing. Wiping sticky sweat from his features, he peered through the darkness towards his lover. An instant later Goten bolted upright, wheezing and biting back a panicked yell.  
  
"Goten?" Goten shuddered in the dim light the moonlight through the window shone upon him. "Are you all right?"  
  
"I-I'm fine, Trunks," he said after a pause, turning slightly to glance at the time. "How long have you been home?" He sounded surprised and almost painfully hopeful. Trunks looked over at the red illuminated numbers.  
  
"About an hour," he said off-handedly and then Goten was hugging him fiercely.  
  
"Thank you, Trunks! I'm so glad you're going to get some sleep!" Trunks managed a feeble smile and returned Goten's embrace.  
  
"Did you have a bad dream?" he questioned, breathing in Goten's aroma: a tangy combination of orange blossoms, chrysanthemums and caraways from his shampoo and spices from his aftershave.  
  
"Yes," Goten admitted, resting his damp forehead on Trunks's shoulder. "I can't remember it though. Sorry."  
  
"Don't ask for forgiveness. You have nothing to be sorry about." Goten was silent, his warm flesh just as moist as Trunks's was.  
  
"I love you, Trunks," Goten said at last, an odd desperation filling his words. "Wo ai ni." His murmur was filled with a fear that he didn't know the cause of.  
  
"I love you too, Goten," Trunks whispered, holding his lover even closer. "Never forget that." For some reason he knew time was running out. He just didn't know why.  
  
. . .  
  
The next morning, while Goten still slumbered, Trunks rummaged around the room and finally unearthed a dictionary. Opening it, he quickly found what he was looking for. Staring at the description in something similar to shock, he let the lexicon fall to the floor with a loud thud.  
  
"Damn. Something weird is going on," he whispered as the dictionary stayed open on the same page, the explanation seeming to mock him.  
  
Incubus n. Evil spirit supposed to descend on sleeping persons; nightmare; person or thing that oppresses like nightmare.  
  
  
  
To be continued.  
  
(To see the picture I used for inspiration for the flashback, go to Sweet lovely KISS ! If that didn't work, copy and paste this: http://www.geocities.com/gotenxtrunks/dgotluvtru11.jpg They're so kawaii!) 


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